And They All Lived
by One Small Monkey
Summary: A friend dared me to write a hypothetical final episode, and, like an idiot, I took him up on it. I bumped the rating up to T to be on the safe side, but I doubt anyone will really have a problem with anything within.


AND THEY ALL LIVED... - alf  
  
Colonel Spigot paced back and forth in front of the High Marshall's palace, his feet slowly digging a trench in the snow. Suddenly, as Dunder expected, the pacing stopped and the ranting began.  
  
"He'th not coming!"  
  
"Oh, he'll be here, Colonel Spigot, sir. I'm sure of it."  
  
"Then where ith he?! Anthwer me that!"  
  
"It's a long way from Cape Suzette, sir."  
  
"But they thould have been here by now. Don't they realithe how important thith ith?!"  
  
Dunder didn't answer, but instead scanned the skies, and soon his eyes lit up. "Sir, look!"  
  
"Huh?" Colonel Spigot screwed up his eyes to get a better look. "It'th them! It'th them! I knew they'd make it! To the landing thtrip!"  
  
Dunder lifted Colonel Spigot out of his makeshift trench, and carried him next to the runway, where he carefully set him down. The Sea Duck made a quick circle around the area, then came down for a landing. Soon after the plane came to a stop, Baloo jumped out of the main door. He was bundled up in his Arctic coat, and had wrapped a scarf around his neck. Right behind him came Kit, similarly dressed to brave the harsh Thembryian elements.  
  
"Howdy-do, Spiggy, Dunder," said Baloo good-naturedly.  
  
Dunder smiled. "Hello, Baloo."  
  
Impatiently, Colonel Spigot stamped his foot. "Yeth, yeth, yeth. Have you got the goodth?"  
  
"Naturally." Baloo reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bag. "One five-pound bag of Carmellinos."  
  
Colonel Spigot sighed, "Exthellent."  
  
Baloo went on, "Now, remember the arrangement. One hundred dollars, plus expenses. That'll bring it to one hundred forty even."  
  
"What?!" Spigot stamped his foot through the snow.  
  
"Hey, overnight delivery to Thembrya ain't cheap."  
  
"That'th uthury! I'm not paying! Forget it!"  
  
Baloo sighed. "Oh, well. Never mind, then. I suppose you can just tell the High Marshall who ate all his candy. No fur off my teeth." Baloo nodded to Kit, and they both turned to go.  
  
"No! Thtop! I need thothe candieth!" Colonel Spigot began whining. "Lithten. I'll give you fifty dollarth."  
  
Baloo turned back around and narrowed his eyes. "Listen, here, Spiggy. I done told you the price. One hundred forty. Either you take it now or I raise the price again."  
  
"OK! OK! I'll take it!" Spigot yelped. "Dunder! Get thith man one hundred and forty dollarth from the treathury."  
  
"Yes sir." Dunder pulled out his wallet and handed Baloo the money. Baloo snatched the money, counted it, then deposited the bag into Dunder's hands. Dunder passed the bag on to Colonel Spigot.  
  
Spigot fingered the candies, but looked glum. "Lookth like one leth float in the Thluth Fethival Parade thith year."  
  
"Oh, that's OK, sir," Dunder said helpfully. "Everyone's asleep by the time the last float rolls by, anyway."  
  
"Well, pleasure doing business with you, as always." Baloo mock-bowed.  
  
"Thanks, Baloo. We owe you one," said Dunder.  
  
"You owe me six...um, not that I'm counting." Baloo shoved the money into his pocket. "We've gotta skedaddle. Got five hundred Mah Jongg sets to deliver to Hasavia by five. Give my love to the High Marshall."  
  
Dunder shook his head. "Oh, I couldn't do that. He'd have you shot."  
  
Baloo let that slide, and simply waved good-bye. He helped Kit back into the Sea Duck, then jumped back in after him. Baloo sat in the pilot's seat and buckled his seat belt. Then he paused and began laughing. "Poor Spiggy - he sure gets himself in some major messes."  
  
Kit nodded. "Yeah, but did you have to charge him so much?" He pulled his snow hat off and tried to push his hair back into place.  
  
"Hey, the price seems reasonable to me. Two bucks for the candy, one hundred thirty-eight to fly it overnight to Thembrya." Baloo pulled out the stack of bills, and peeled off a twenty. "Here you go, li'l britches. Early Christmas bonus."  
  
Kit took the twenty, eyes wide open. "Wow! Thanks!"  
  
Baloo pointed a finger at his navigator. "Now you put that in your college fund."  
  
"Aw, Baloo!" Kit rolled his eyes.  
  
Baloo regarded Kit for a second. "Awright, awright, just put ten of it in your college fund."  
  
Kit smiled. "Thanks."  
  
"Promise, now."  
  
"I will, I will." Kit stuck the twenty in the pocket of his jacket.  
  
Baloo took another look at Kit. The kid's growing up, thought Baloo. Seems like just yesterday we got thrown together. Now he's in junior high, co-captain of the track team...and he'll be gettin' his pilot's license before we know it.  
  
The door to the hold opened, and Wildcat stuck his head in. He wore his earmuffs and a scarf, and had an extra long jacket on. "Are we there yet, Baloo?"  
  
Baloo began his takeoff checklist. "There and gone, Wildcat. We're just heading back now."  
  
"Darn, I missed it. Ya want me to fly now?"  
  
Baloo considered. "Nah, you can keep nappin'. I think once I get the Duck up and running, I'll let the kid here take the stick for a bit."  
  
Kit said, excited, "Really? You want me to take off, too?"  
  
"Aw, li'l britches, now ya know I can't letcha do that. If anything happened during takeoff, Becky'd have my hide in front of a fireplace."  
  
Kit thought about arguing his case, but then decided he didn't want to risk not getting to fly at all. "Oh, all right, but you know I wouldn't crash us."  
  
"Kit, you know all the stuff that can go wrong on takeoff."  
  
"Well, yeah, I've been sitting here watching you while you've done 'em all."  
  
"Aw, Kit..."  
  
Kit started laughing. "I'm just kiddin', Baloo."  
  
Smiling, Baloo nodded. "Yeah, I know. Head on back, Wildcat; we'll call ya when we need ya."  
  
Baloo put the Sea Duck aloft, then, true to his word, he turned the controls over to Kit. Despite his excitement at flying the plane, Kit's eyelids turned heavy pretty quickly - he had been up for many hours straight. When Baloo caught him stifling a yawn, he considered that a sign.  
  
"Awright, li'l britches, that'll do."  
  
"Aw, Baloo, I've only been flying for half an hour!"  
  
"Yeah, but we're both dead beat. More flying after a nap. Deal?"  
  
This time Kit made no attempt to hide his yawn. "Yeah, deal."  
  
Baloo stood up and poked his head into the hold. "Hey, Wildcat, ready to fly?"  
  
Wildcat bounded out of his hammock. "Okey-dokey."  
  
Baloo waved him in. "We're on a straight course to Hasavia. Just keep 'er steady."  
  
Wildcat took the controls from Kit. "You guys mind if I turn on the radio?" He had installed it for Baloo to enjoy about a year back.  
  
Baloo half-laughed. "Good luck findin' a station this far north."  
  
Wildcat snapped on the radio and began fiddling with the controls, finally tuning in a song. "Oh, boy, I love this song!" Wildcat began singing, "She wears the finest clothes from her head to her toes, but all I see is her smiiiiiiile!"  
  
Kit wrinkled his nose. "Wildcat, you can listen, but you can't sing, all right?"  
  
"Oh, all right." Wildcat said, only a bit sheepishly.  
  
Baloo rolled his eyes at the radio. "This is awful. Louie's group sounds better warming up!"  
  
"What station are they on?" Wildcat again fiddled with the controls.  
  
"They ain't on any station."  
  
"Oh. Well, never mind then."  
  
Wildcat stopped tuning the radio, leaving the dial on what sounded like a news report. "...within the next few weeks. No major development is expected. Now turning to international news, Usland continues talks with Sequentia today over border disputes and trade issues. Usland's security chief Curtis Kloniker warned that talks may break off if an agreement is not reached soon."  
  
"What's Sequentia?" Wildcat asked.  
  
Baloo shrugged. "Small place to the east. Delivered there once, but no more. Their ports always're lookin' for bribes."  
  
The radio droned on. "...historic peace talks between Usland and Thembryia look like they'll proceed as planned in two days. Delegations from both sides..."  
  
Wildcat changed the channel. "I can't sing along to this...too many words."  
  
"Just keep it down, OK?"  
  
"Roger, and Taylor." Wildcat saluted as Baloo and Kit moved back to the hold to take a nap.  
  
Wildcat spent the next few hours in a good mood. He didn't mind being alone; most of his time was spent that way. And flying the Sea Duck and listening to music was a welcome change from fixing stuff.  
  
Flying in shifts, they managed to get to Hasavia a bit before the expected time, earning themselves another small bonus. Baloo and Kit had done the bulk of the driving, so after Kit sleepily set a course for home, Wildcat once again took the controls.  
  
His third performance of "All I See Is Your Smile" was interrupted by the two-way radio buzzing to life. "Maddog calling Sea Duck. Over."  
  
Wildcat turned down the radio while fumbling with the two-way. "Oh... um...Sea Duck caliing Maddox. Under."  
  
"We've got you surrounded, Baloo. Stand and deliver."  
  
Wildcat peered out the window. Sure enough, several pirate planes were in formation around him. "Um...is it okay if I stay sitting down? There's not a lot of room here."  
  
"Baloo! Stop joking around! Change course and head towards the island, or we'll shoot you down. Over."  
  
"Um...Roger Whittaker." Wildcat, flustered, changed course towards Pirate Island. Within minutes, he was parked inside the cave.  
  
Yawning, Baloo emerged from hold. "Why we stoppin'..." His eyes went wide. "Great googly-moogly, we're in Pirate Island! What're we doin' *here*?!"  
  
"Um, sorry, Baloo, but they said they'd shoot me down."  
  
"Aw, you shoulda woke me up. I coulda gott'n us outta this!"  
  
Kit walked up behind Baloo. "Pirate Island?"  
  
"Yeah, you set a course by here?"  
  
Kit considered, then answered, sheepishly, "Well, kinda near. But I thought we'd be up long before we got anywhere nearby." Kit sighed. "Sorry, guys. I letcha down."  
  
Baloo forced a smile. "Aw, dontcha fret, you two. This ain't nothin' we ain't done before."  
  
The main door opened, and a dog pirate with two pistols strapped to his side stepped aboard. "Baloo." he said with a half-smile.  
  
"Will," Baloo answered, mockingly.  
  
"It's been a long time."  
  
"Not long enough."  
  
"You surprise me, Baloo. No flashy maneuvers to outwit us today?"  
  
Baloo shrugged. "Gotta let you win once in a while. Otherwise you'll start thinkin' I don't love ya no more."  
  
Will glanced around the hold. "Figures. You let us capture you the day you're already empty." He sighed. "You know what that means, of course."  
  
Baloo sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know."  
  
"And the captain's already in such a mood. Oh, well, perhaps smacking you three around will cheer him up." Will pulled out a pistol and waved it, making it look somewhere between a threatening gesture and a gallant bow. "Allow me to escort you to the captain's quarters."  
  
"Don't bother. We know the way."  
  
"I insist." Will waved all three of them out the door. With the jerk of his head, two other pirates fell in behind him as he followed them through the corridor.  
  
"Sorry for the formalities, Baloo," said Will, "but you know Karnage likes things his way."  
  
After negotiating several passageways, Will stepped ahead of them, and knocked on a large door. He waited a few seconds, then knocked again.  
  
"Yes, yes, what is it?" a weary but familiar voice rang out.  
  
Will opened the door and ushered the threesome into the doorway, then went in himself. "Prisoners, captain."  
  
Don Karnage was seated at a large ornate desk with his back to the door. His blue jacket was hung from a peg on the wall beside him. Apparently, he was working on some manuscript - there was an ink and pen in front of him, as well as a few balled-up papers on the floor. Behind the inkwell was a bottle, still two-thirds full, and as he turned around, they saw a mug in his hands. His eyes lit up as he recognized his prisoners.  
  
"Ah, yes! Very good. Thank you, Will; you may leave us now." Will half-bowed, then stepped out, closing the door behind him.  
  
Don put his mug down, and stood up. "My friends, welcome to my humble abode. Baloo, always a pleasure." He gave a slight bow.  
  
"F'r you, maybe," muttered Baloo.  
  
"And Kit! You grow so tall, eh?" Kit simply rolled his eyes. "And your friend...I do not believe I have had the pleasure...?"  
  
"Um, uh, Wildcat at your service, sir." Wildcat removed his visor.  
  
"Ah, yes, now I remember. Most happy to see you." Don turned his attention back to Baloo. "Now then. What have you brought for me today? Pigs? Ice? The strawberry jam?"  
  
"We were shippin' Caramellinos..." Baloo began.  
  
"The sugary confection? Not what I was hoping, I must admit, but the crew will no doubt be happy..."  
  
Baloo crossed his arms. "Already delivered, Karnie."  
  
Don raised his eyebrows. "Indeed? And so early in the day. Then I suppose I must take the money, yes no?"  
  
Baloo shook his head and attempted not to look over at Wildcat. "They're sendin' a check."  
  
"A...check?" Baloo nodded, and Don sighed. "Ah, you have then left me in quite the picklish situation. You know the pirate's code, do you not? I cannot release you until I get something in return from you."  
  
"I got some crackers." Wildcat pulled some half-crumbled crackers from his pocket and held them out.  
  
Don stared at them for a second, then looked back up at Wildcat. "Thank you, no. It seems I must press you into service. We always could use a dishwasher - Cookie is so horrible at cleaning up afterwards."  
  
Again Wildcat spoke up. "Um, I can fix things."  
  
Kit muttered, "They already got a mechanic, Wildcat."  
  
"Wait a minuet, there. A mechanic, you say? You can fix the planes that have gone poof?"  
  
Wildcat looked embarassed. "Well, yeah, most o' the time..."  
  
Kit cocked his head. "What's wrong with Rachet?"  
  
"A little oopsie. He was fixing my plane, he slipped off the ladder, and broke his foot. Now he cannot climb up to see the engines. So, my dear Wildcat, you are proficient in the fixing of the planes?"  
  
"Well, I can fix planes all right. I'm not much of a pro at fishin'. Baloo's better at that'n I am."  
  
Don stared at him for a second, then shook his head. "Very well. Kit, kindly take Wildcat down to Rachet's room." He opened the door. "Will shall accompany you to the docking bays." Will half-bowed, then waved Kit and Wildcat ahead of him. Don closed the door, and paused briefly before turning around to face the room. He walked over to his desk, refilled his mug, then held it out to Baloo.  
  
Baloo, confused, said, "Uh, no, no, thanks. Too early for me."  
  
Don shrugged, then sat backwards on his chair to face Baloo. "By all means, sit." Baloo looked around, finally perching himself on a bench at the foot of the pirate's canopy bed. Don took a sip of rum, then smiled. "Ah, Baloo. In all my wonderful years of piracy, you have always been my greatest adversary. Again and again, we have done battle, and you..." Don paused for a minute, trying to find the right words. "...you have not emerged defeated as often as I would have hoped. And for all my anger, my rage, there also is...just a touch...of admiration."  
  
"Uh, thanks. Love ya too."  
  
"I consider you..." Don beat his chest with his free fist. "...a comrade." With a wave of his hand, he indicated the entire island. "As wonderful as my pirating life has been, there has always been...a lack of those whom I may speak to. Sadly, most of my men are quite slow in the head."  
  
Baloo shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he wanted to have a heart-to- heart with Don Karnage. "Not all of 'em. Rachet's OK. And there's Will."  
  
Don paused. "Yes. There is Will." He smiled slightly, then took another sip. "Baloo, are you a married bear?"  
  
Half-laughing, Baloo just said, "Wh-me?!"  
  
"No girl-a-friend? No female who is special to you?"  
  
Baloo thought for a second, then said, "No, not really."  
  
Don shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Baloo, I have always been a pirate. And a very good one, too, yes no? Perhape the best ever. I bring the pirates from the ships to the planes, amass my fortune..." He looked off into the distance.  
  
Wondering where this was going, Baloo said, "Uh...and?"  
  
Blinking, Don returned to earth. "Well, one cannot help but wonder. One grows weary of the same things, yes no? Every single one of my goals, I have met... no, I have surpassed!"  
  
Baloo smirked. "Ya never got into Cape Suzette."  
  
Don frowned. "I did! Twice, as a matter of the fact."  
  
"Ya never got nothin' out of it."  
  
Although he at first looked angry, Don waved it away. "What does it matter? What would have I gotten? More gold for my strongbox?"  
  
"Ain't that whatcher after?"  
  
Don shook his head. "I thought so for many years, Baloo. But no. It was the chase, the hunt that excited me. The booty?" Again he shrugged. "That is of no importiance to me. But the times, they change. And even the great Don Karnage will change. So now, I have a new goal. I wish to enter Cape Suzette."  
  
"That ain't new; you been tryin' to do that since I first metcha."  
  
"No, no, my friend. I do not want to plunder Cape Suzette. I want to *live* in Cape Suzette."  
  
Baloo looked stunned. "You can't be a pirate 'n' live in Cape Suzette!"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Don made a rude sound with his mouth. "You speak as if I am stupid, which I am not, Baloo."  
  
Baloo looked even more stunned. "You don't mean...you...you're gonna... give it up? Stop bein' a pirate?"  
  
Don finished the rum in his mug. "My dear Baloo, the thrill is gone, yes no? I wish to attempt something new. Something my wonderful self has never attempted. I ask myself, can the great Don Karnage live the simple life? It appeals to me. I wish to live in the pleasant little home, have the simple job, go to the shops..." He shifted in his chair a bit. "Do you know what is my favorite food?"  
  
Baloo wasn't ready for the topic change. "Your...your what?"  
  
Putting the mug behind him, he repeated, "My favorite food. In the entire world. Steak and eggs."  
  
"Steak and...steak and eggs? Yeah, so what?"  
  
"You know how many times I have had the steak and eggs? Ever?" He gnashed his teeth. "*Three*!" He pounded his fist against the back of the chair. "Three! Lousy! Stinking! Times!"  
  
Baloo was by now very uncomfortable with the entire conversation. "Uh, maybe you should have Cookie fix it more often, Karnie."  
  
"No, no, stupid bear. It is not that Cookie does not know how to fix the steak and eggs. It is that we have no steak! We have no eggs! It is always fish. Fish and potatoes. I ask you, Baloo, why do we always plunder the potato plane? Why does the potato pilot always come too close? The steak plane - it *never* comes by. Never, never, never!" Don half-slumped into his chair.  
  
"Um...sorry 'bout that."  
  
Don sighed. "Being the pirate extraordinaire, it is marvelous. But to live here all of my life, with no electricity, no showers, and no steak and eggs - that is why I want to buy the home in Cape Suzette." Again he looked off into the distance. "Yes, yes, I believe we will be very happy."  
  
"We? What d'ya..." Baloo broke into a sly smile. "Don't tell me you got yourself a girlfriend?" In spite of himself, Don smiled embarassedly. "I see it now! Some girl's gotcha tamed!" Baloo suddenly stopped. "But wait a sec. You ain't got no girl pirates, do ya? So..." Baloo half-laughed. "Ha! Unless...unless you 'n' Will hooked up!"  
  
Don sat upright, and slammed his hand down on the back of his chair. "What? He should not have told that to a nobody like you."  
  
Baloo stopped smiling. "Who? Told me what? Nobody told me nothin'." Suddenly Baloo's eyes grew wide. "No. You mean...you 'n' Will're... oh my..." Baloo dropped to the floor in paraxyms of laughter.  
  
Jumping to his feet, Don stepped over to where Baloo lay prone on the floor. "What? What are you saying?!"  
  
"Oh man, it's perfect!" Tears were rolling down Baloo's cheeks. "Too perfect! The dread pirate...Don Karnage...yow!" He hugged himself and continued rolling around on the floor.  
  
Don snatched his sabre and held it over Baloo. "Enough! Silence, you bloated bear, or I'll skewer you like a canape!"  
  
Baloo rolled into a sitting position, and rubbed the tears from his eyes. "Whoo boy! He he he! Sorry, Karnie, it's just...hoo! It's so perfect. Wow." He pulled himself back onto the bench, still half-laughing to himself. Don took a few deep breaths, then half-shrugged and put his sword down.  
  
Baloo calmed himself a bit, then shook his head. "Listen, Karnie, you can't live in Cape Suzette. You got a record longer'n anyone. They'll toss ya in jail for life. Think'f all the junk ya stole."  
  
"Plundered," Don corrected. "It's in the hold. They can have it back if they so desire."  
  
Baloo stopped short. "All of it?"  
  
Don rolled his eyes. "No, not *all* of it, stupid bear. Think! Of course, we ate the food, and used the oil and gasoline and the aeroplane parts, but the rest is all here."  
  
"Even the money?"  
  
"Has your head come loose from the falling to the floor? Of course, we have the money. What do you think we did with it? Went to the furniture store to redecorate the island?"  
  
Baloo considered. "Good point. But still, even if ya gave it all back, they still wouldn't let you in. They'd figger it was just some big trick."  
  
Don nodded and poured himself some more rum. "Ah, yes, very true. And what about the crew?"  
  
"Um, what about them?"  
  
"What will they do? Do you think the air pirates can continue with Maddog in charge? Or Dumptruck?"  
  
Baloo laughed. "They'd be caught in a week!"  
  
"Exactamundo. I must be sure they can take care of their stupid selves."  
  
"Well, they can work construction or pump gas or something." Baloo looked up. "But why do you care, anyhoo?"  
  
"You may find this hard to believe, my dear Baloo, but I do have the morals." ("Not many," muttered Baloo, too quiet for Don to hear.) "The crew has served me well for many years. It would not be right to simply leave them in the lurches." Don sipped his rum, then waved his hand. "Ah, well, it is a dream, yes no? Surely you have dreams, Baloo."  
  
"Well, yeah..."  
  
"Tell me of them."  
  
"Easy. Gotta get my plane back."  
  
Don laughed. "Oh, but that is simple! Once your Wildcat has fixed my planes, I will restore yours to you."  
  
"No, Karnie, you got it all wrong. See, Beckers - Rebecca, my boss - owns the title to the Duck."  
  
"Ah, the annoying business lady. So you wish to reclaim possession of your plane, and then leave her behind. And what do you wish to do with your plane then?"  
  
Baloo opened his mouth, then shut it. "Y'know what? I don't rightly know." He thought, I'll just take off to where the wind takes me. And Kit? He'll come along. Will he want to come along? Sure, he will. And Wildcat? Hm. And what about....? A knock on the door interrupted his thought process.  
  
Don announced, "Please to come in." Will opened the door, and Kit and Wildcat filed in. "You are finished already? Rachet may find himself without his job!"  
  
"Um, well, there wasn't much to do. Just a quick fix here 'n' there, y'know." Wildcat explained.  
  
"Yes, yes. Well done. Well, Baloo, the debt has been paid. You three are free to leave."  
  
Kit's eyes got big. "What, just like that?"  
  
"Yes, my little one, just like that. You see, Don Karnage, much like an excellent wine, becomes mellow with the years." Don turned back to Baloo. "And my dear Baloo, I thank you for listening to my ramblings. I do not know for what reason I have turned so reflective this morning. Perhaps it was the radio. I hear the voice of Curt on the news..." He turned his attention back to Kit. "You recall Curt, yes no?"  
  
"Uh, no."  
  
"No? Curtis Kloniker? Ah, hold it, a thousand pardons. He left just before you entered our domain."  
  
"Who? Ihe head security guy?" Baloo looked skeptical.  
  
"Yes, did you not know? He was once a pirate like my wonderful self. Curt was my first mate, aiding us when we gave up the ships and began using the planes. But one day - poof! He flies away, never to return. Now I hear he is a big muckety-muck in Cape Suzette. And I?"  
  
Kit smirked. "Still a pirate?"  
  
"Not just a pirate - the dread pirate Don Karnage - feared by all!" He struck a dramatic pose.  
  
"But still a pirate," insisted Baloo.  
  
Don again looked angry, and again it passed quickly. "Yes, yes, my friend. Still a pirate. Will, please escort our guests back to their plane. They are free to go."  
  
Will saluted, and ushered the three back into the corridor. They began marching back towards the plane dock with Will in front. Baloo sped up slightly to pull even with him.  
  
"Say, uh, Will, is Karnie OK?"  
  
Will shrugged. "Yeah. He's been getting these moods lately. He just kinda broods...and drinks. He doesn't do it much, but when he does, he gets rather...well, he gets like that."  
  
"Hm. Lucky f'r us, I guess." Baloo though of about a hundred more things to say, but decided not to say any of them. They reached the Sea Duck, and Baloo smiled. "It's funny not having to sneak back on board."  
  
"I'll leave you here, gentlemen. I've got a lot on my hands right now."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I think I understand." Baloo leaned towards Will. "Keep an eye on 'im, 'K?" he said quietly.  
  
Will didn't respond for a second, but then he simply nodded once. "Thank you for talking with him." Will turned around and headed back up the corridor.  
  
"Well, better make up for lost time." Wildcat stepped on board, but Kit appeared lost in a fog. "Hey, Kit? Let's get outta here."  
  
Kit shook himself out of his reverie. "Oh, right, Baloo."  
  
"Once we're up, you wanna take over again?"  
  
"Oh. Um. N-no, I don't think so."  
  
Baloo was surprised - Kit would usually give up breathing in order to fly. "You sure?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm still pretty beat."  
  
Baloo sat down in the pilot's seat. "Suitcherself, li'l britches. I'll wake ya up when we reach Louie's."  
  
Wildcat sat in the navigator's seat. "Um, say, Baloo..."  
  
"No, Wildcat, I'm not listening to the radio. And if you like me t'all, you won't sing that 'Smile' song."  
  
Wildcat pursed his lips together. "Oh. OK."  
  
Kit went back into the hold and jumped up on his bunk. He stared at the ceiling and let the sound of the propellers help drive his thoughts. He thought back to seven, eight years ago. He tried to relax, but his jaw tightened. Kit hated thinking of back then - not that those were bad times, really, or that he felt ashamed of his time with the pirates. But it had now been so long, he had a harder and harder time bringing his mother's face to mind. He hated himself for not remembering - it was his mother, for crying out loud. But eight years is eight years, and he was only four when she passed away.  
  
It seemed like only moments had gone by when he heard Baloo shouting from up front. "Hey, kid, you still up?"  
  
Kit jumped off the bunk and entered the cockpit. "We can't be at Louie's yet, can we?"  
  
Baloo shook his head. "Nah, still a ways off. But we got us a distress call - plane malfunction." Wildcat stood up and let Kit take the navigator's seat again. "He gave us coordinates 123-36-15, 98-4-55."  
  
Kit scanned the map. "Is everyone OK?"  
  
"Yeah, fine, they landed all right. They're parked off a small island somewhere."  
  
Kit glanced at the compass, then turned back to the map. "Head east northeast. They're off in that direction."  
  
"Roger." Baloo turned the plane.  
  
It was less than ten minutes later that they first made visual contact. The seaplane was parked a few yards off of a small island. Baloo let a out a laugh.  
  
"Hoo-hoo! 'Khan Industries'. I think I smell me a reward!"  
  
Baloo steered the Sea Duck down for a landing next to the Khan Industries plane. They spied three people inside: a Khan pilot, a goat in a business suit, and Shere Khan himself. Baloo turned off his propellers, then gave a friendly wave. Wildcat pulled a wooden plank out from the hold, and laid it between the two planes to make a makeshift bridge. Baloo headed across first, followed by Kit and Wildcat, toting his tool chest.  
  
"Hey, Khan!" he yelled out as he reached the door. "If I save your tail one more time, yer gonna have to put me on your payroll!"  
  
"Indeed I may," said Shere Khan laconicly.  
  
"You remember Kit 'n' Wildcat?"  
  
"Ah, yes." Shere Khan's lip twitched upwards slightly. "My doppleganger. Aku Ba'ab, my pilot, and Wallace Sturgess, head of Khan Entertainment."  
  
Handshakes were exchanged, then Baloo immediately jumped to the subject at hand. "So what's the problem with yer plane?"  
  
Aku shrugged. "It started pretty suddenly. Loud shrieking sound from the motor. I landed here, and took a peek at it. It seems fine, but now it won't start."  
  
Wildcat smiled. "Ooh! Did it sound like this - krkrkrkkrkrrkrrrr..." He sounded like a very badly tuned radio.  
  
Aku looked as if he thought Wildcat had lost his mind. "Um, more or less."  
  
Wildcat nodded. "Oh, that'll be easy to fix. I'll go look - you go back in the cockpit and start it up when I yellatcha, awright?" He went out the door, and lowered himself down to the pontoon. He balanced his toolchest on his head, shimmied around to the front of the plane, then climbed up until he was resting just above the open hood. He dropped the toolchest onto the engine, poked and prodded a few parts, then leaned back up. "Awrighty!"  
  
Aku flipped the switch to start the engine, but nothing happened. He jiggled it a few times, again with no result.  
  
"Awright, that's enough!" Wildcat stared at the engine intently, then smiled. He then looked up at the sky for a second. "Ya think it's gonna rain?!"  
  
Aku shook his head. "What did you say?"  
  
"Ya think it's gonna rain?!" Wildcat pointed up to the sky intently.  
  
Now Aku knew this guy was off his rocker. He stared up at the almost cloudless sky. "Um...no."  
  
"I'll ask Baloo. Better safe'n sorry." Wildcat shimmied back down to the pontoon and went back to the door. "Hey, Baloo, d'ya think it's gonna rain soon?"  
  
Baloo checked the sky. "No, don't look like it, Wildcat."  
  
Wildcat grinned. "Great!" He jumped back onto the pontoon and headed back for the front of the plane.  
  
Shere Khan turned to Baloo. "Rain?"  
  
Baloo shook his head. "Don't ask questions when Wildcat's fixin' stuff. I learned that lesson long time ago. So whatcha doin' way out here?"  
  
Wallace said, "We're heading back from Thembryia. We were checking into starting a new radio network there."  
  
Kit shook his head. "Playing Thembryian music? Yuck."  
  
"We hadn't decided what type of music to play. We just wanted to check on the feasibility of the plan."  
  
Shere Khan added, "Very *un*feasible, as it turns out. I've decided to wait until more than ten percent of the Thembryians have electricity in their homes."  
  
Baloo laughed, "No use playin' it if ain't nobody listenin'."  
  
"Precisely. But now we must hurry back. The Sequentian situation grows serious. I need to withdraw my men from there before war breaks out."  
  
Kit's eyes widened. "You think it's war?"  
  
"My young man, I did not get where I am now by misreading current events, nor by taking unnecessary risks."  
  
Aku came back into the hold from the cockpit. "Um, he says it's all fixed."  
  
Shere Khan raised his eyebrows. "So soon?"  
  
Baloo smiled. "Wildcat knows what he's doin'. Well, when fixin' planes, he does."  
  
They all filed into the cockpit. Wildcat shut the hood. "All set!"  
  
Aku flipped the ignition switch again. Again nothing happened. "It's still not working!" he said.  
  
"Turn on the wipers!" Wildcat yelled back.  
  
Aku echoed, "The wipers?!"  
  
Baloo nodded. "Go ahead."  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, Aku reached to the side and flipped the switch that turned on the windshield wipers. Immediately, the plane started up, and the propellers began spinning.  
  
"Well, I'll be." Aku sat down in the pilot's seat, while the rest of them filed back into the hold. Baloo gave Wildcat a boost off the pontoon back into the hold. Wildcat held up a wire.  
  
"This li'l fella got all burned up, so he couldn't start yer plane no more."  
  
Baloo smiled. "So ya unhooked the wiper wire and put it on the starter!"  
  
"You betcha. You guys better stop at Louie's though, 'cause it might burn out again, and then you'd be stuck again - and this time without wipers."  
  
"Bravo," said Shere Khan.  
  
Baloo laughed. "We've told Wildcat over an' over - ya gotta open up yer own shop!"  
  
Wildcat stuck out his lower lip. "Aw."  
  
Sighing, Shere Khan said, "Well, Mr. Wildcat..."  
  
"Naw, just Wildcat, sir."  
  
Shere Khan sighed again. "Well, Wildcat, I suppose I should repay you..."  
  
"Naw, that's OK, Mr. Khan, sir. T'weren't nuttin."  
  
"My dear sir, I always repay my debts." He glanced significantly over at Baloo, then went on. "Is there nothing I can offer you?"  
  
Wildcat scrunched up his face, then brightened. "Ooh! Yeah, yeah!" He paused. "Oh, wait, never mind."  
  
Shere Khan said, rather impatiently, "What is it?"  
  
"Well..." Wildcat leaned in towards Shere Khan confidentially. "Ya know what I really need? A new socket wrench."  
  
Lifting one eyebrow, Shere Khan repeated, "A new socket wrench?"  
  
"Yeah. Mine's gettin' kinda scrotchy."  
  
Shere Khan smiled. "Very well, Wildcat. You will have your new socket wrench."  
  
Wildcat's eyes lit up. "Really? Wow, thanks, Mr Khan, sir!"  
  
Baloo rolled his eyes. "Let's get goin'. You guys said you're in a hurry." He stepped onto the plank and began making his way back to the Sea Duck. "We'll tail ya to Louie's, 'n case somethin' goes haywire!" he yelled back over the roar of the propellers. Wildcat tipped his visor, picked up his tools, and herded Kit out in front of him.  
  
Baloo started the Sea Duck up, then turned to Wildcat. "Why dincha ask for somethin' bigger?"  
  
Wildcat shrugged. "All my bigger tools still work." He headed towards the back of the plane.  
  
Baloo sighed and took the plane airborne. The trip wasn't too long - less than half an hour, so Baloo decided against letting Kit fly again. Not that he'll mind, thought Baloo - kid's been in a fog since Pirate Island.  
  
After parking at Louie's, Wildcat approached the head mechanic. "Hey-a, Sparks!"  
  
The monkey grinned. "Hey-a, Wildcat. Ain't seen ya in many a moon."  
  
"We got us a sick starter on the KI-47 there. Can ya fix it up?"  
  
Sparks whistled. "Tough order. We got an open bay, but we're short handed. Louie & the band go on in fifteen."  
  
"Oh, I can fix it. I just need the bay."  
  
"It's yours - that is," Sparks pulled up short. "If the boss man says it's OK."  
  
Baloo smiled. "We'll go talk to 'im." He led the way in, with the rest of the group following behind.  
  
"My main man!" Louie had already picked up his trumpet, but he put it down to slap hands with Baloo. "And in such esteemed company, too." He half-bowed to Shere Khan and his entourage.  
  
"Hey-a, Louie! Listen." Baloo leaned in a bit. "I gotta ask you a favor."  
  
Sadly shaking his head, Louie said, "No can do, cous'. Your tab's more maxed out than your belt."  
  
Baloo turned around and forced a laugh. "That's Louie - always jokin'!" He turned to face him again. "Naw, not that. Khan's plane went kablooey and Wildcat wants to know if he can use yer bay to fix it."  
  
Louie brightened considerably. "Aw, that's no problem, s'long as the man there pays for the parts."  
  
Shere Khan continued looking aloof. "Obviously."  
  
Wildcat shook Louie's hand. "Thanks, Louie! I might just get a new socket wrench outta this deal!" He headed out the door, humming "Smile". Louie shook his head at his retreating figure, then turned to the rest of them. "Find yourselves a table - show's about to start. Usual, Baloo?"  
  
"You betcha."  
  
"Me, too," added Kit.  
  
Louie pointed to Shere Khan. "What's your poison, Khan?"  
  
Narrowing his eyes, Shere Khan murmured, "Scotch, neat, clean glass."  
  
"Clean glass?" Louie laughed. "Don't know if have any of those. 'll have to check in back. You two?"  
  
Aku shrugged. "Water. Still on duty."  
  
"Any recommendations?" asked Wallace.  
  
"Pineapple daiquiri?"  
  
"Sounds...interesting."  
  
"It is, cous', it is. I'll have Lucy bring your drinks over." Louie ambled off to the bar, and Baloo led the rest of them to a table near the back. Almost immediately, Lucy brought their drinks over, and the lights dimmed. Louie reached the microphone and pulled it off the stand.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Louie's Place. Flyboys call me Louie. The ladies call me often." There was polite laughter - most of these pilots had sat through Louie's patter many a time. "Thanks for catching the five o'clock. We'll start out with a new one we cooked up a few weeks back, and I think we've come close enough to learning it now to play it for you. It's called the 'Saratago Stomp'. Montgomery, when you're set?"  
  
Montgomery the pianist start the song off, and five seconds later the room was swinging. Baloo began nodding his head, humming under his breath. Kit half-smiled - Louie really knew his music. He noticed even Aku and Wallace with tapping their fingers in rhythm, although Shere Khan continued looking unimpressed.  
  
Halfway through the fourth number, Wildcat re-entered and walked over to the table. Baloo looked over at him expectantly, and Wildcat returned a thumbs- up sign. Baloo tapped Shere Khan's shoulder and indicated the exit with his head. Shere Khan nodded, and the entire table got up. They walked to the door, with Shere Khan pausing briefly to pay Lucy for the drinks.  
  
Once they were outside, Aku turned expectantly to Wildcat. "Is it OK?"  
  
Wildcat laughed. "OK? Boy, it's better'n OK. It's working!"  
  
Shere Khan smiled slightly. "Excellent. If you'll excuse us, I have some men to recall. As soon as that's handled, I'll work on your payment, Mr... Wildcat."  
  
"Oh, boy - thanks, Mr Khan!" Wildcat said enthusiastically.  
  
They said their goodbyes, and Baloo, Wilcat and Kit re-boarded the Sea Duck. Baloo started up the engine, and then shook his head. "Boy, we sure wasted this day away, didn't we, li'l britches?"  
  
Kit sighed. "Yeah, but we're almost home."  
  
Again Baloo shook his head. "Th'way things're goin', I don't wanna think 'bout what could go wrong between here an' there." He kicked the throttle up and took the Sea Duck airborne.  
  
Fortunately, it was an uneventful flight from Louie's back home. Baloo parked the plane, and left Wildcat to do the securing. He figured he had to face Rebecca as soon as possible.  
  
Rebecca was sitting at her messy desk, her head in her hands. She glanced up as Baloo entered.  
  
"Don't tell me. You had to stop at Louie's," she said, resignedly. "Or was it air pirates?"  
  
Baloo scratched the back of his neck uncertainly. "Um, both, actually. Y'can check with Kit 'n' Wildcat if you need pa'ticulars."  
  
Sighing, Rebecca said, "Never mind. Did you get the money?"  
  
"Oh, yeah - in dollars, too." Baloo fished in his shirt pocket, and withdrew a stack of bills. "One hundred from Thembryia, one hundred from Havamia. I already slipped twenty each to the kid 'n' Wildcat - y'know, for makin' the trip with me."  
  
Rebecca stood up and took the stack from Baloo. "I wish you'd let me take care of the bonuses, Baloo. I'm supposed to be in charge of the money."  
  
She's not as mad as I thought she'd be, thought Baloo. "Sorry."  
  
Rebecca counted the bills, then put them in a strong box on her desk. "Well, that'll help, anyway," she muttered.  
  
"Help? Help what?"  
  
It took her a few seconds, but Rebecca forced a smile, and tried to sound light-hearted. "Oh, nothing. Don't forget! I'm in charge of the money."  
  
"Yeah, but I'm a partner in this here business. Come on, Beckers, out with it."  
  
The smile vanished instantly. "Money's...pretty tight."  
  
"How tight?" Baloo pressed.  
  
"Well...*most* of the bills are paid..."  
  
"...which means some ain't. What's not paid?"  
  
Rebecca sighed. "Just one. Rent."  
  
"Rent?! That's the big one!"  
  
"I know, I know."  
  
Suddenly Baloo smiled. "But that money should pay for a whole month's worth."  
  
"Yes. Yes, it will." Rebecca put her hand over her eyes and started rubbing. "The payment from five months ago."  
  
Baloo's eyes got wider. "No. Naw, Beckers, you can't be serious." Seeing Rebecca nod a bit, he went on. "How can we be five months behind in rent?!"  
  
Rebecca began sounding angry. "How do you *think* we did? Not enough money coming in. Not enough jobs." She walked around the desk to face Baloo directly. "I've done *everything* for this business - even moved Molly and me out our apartment and into this shack - for what? To get even further in debt!"  
  
Baloo softened his tone. "Hey, hey, Beckers, relax. It's OK. We'll get by."  
  
Rebecca clenched her fists, and tears appeared in her eyes. "That's easy for you to say - you're not in charge of the money, remember?"  
  
"It's my business, too. Look, we made it this far."  
  
"I know. I know" Rebecca brushed a tear away before it could leave her eye. Baloo reached towards her and pulled her into his arms. She walked into them, and began crying for good.  
  
"Hey, Beckers, don't cry."  
  
"I...I can't help it." she mumbled. "It's so unfair."  
  
Baloo glanced up to see Molly walking in the front door. He quickly shook his head at her, then indicated the stairway with a point of his head. She nodded, and crept up the stairs as quietly as possible.  
  
Rebecca continued crying and mumbling, "I don't know what we're going to do."  
  
"Shhh...don't worry 'bout it, Beckers. Something'll come up." He tried to think of something - somehow to make more money. But he couldn't get his mind past one single thought. Rebecca was in his arms, and, surprisingly, he kind of liked her there.  
  
Molly peeked in on Kit. She always felt unnerved when her mother was crying, and she wanted someone to talk to. Kit was putting his twenty into his sock drawer. "Wow," Molly said.  
  
Kit turned to her and smiled. "Yeah, enough for that bike I want."  
  
Molly figured that was as good as an invitation, so she came in the doorway, "That should be enough for a bike."  
  
"I promised Baloo I'd put ten in my college fund." Kit looked at Molly. "You okay?"  
  
"I guess so. Mom's crying again."  
  
Kit frowned. He figured Molly'd be used to that by now. "What's the matter? Is everything OK?"  
  
Molly shrugged, then walked over and threw herself down on Baloo's bed. "It's probably about money. It usually is."  
  
"Hm. Maybe I should give her this twenty back."  
  
"No. That'll just make her feel worse." Molly sighed. "We're pretty mixed up, aren't we?"  
  
"We who?"  
  
"All of us. You and me. And Baloo and Mom. And Wildcat."  
  
Kit sat down on his bed, smiling a bit. "Well, yeah, Wildcat's mixed up - that's for sure. But what's wrong with the rest of us?"  
  
Molly kicked the bed a bit before answering. "We're all mixed up. You got a dad - sorta - but no mom. I got a mom but no dad."  
  
Kit frowned. "They're not makin' fun of you at school again, are they?"  
  
Shaking her head, Molly said, "Huh-uh. It's just...I dunno. When I see Jenny's mom come pick her up at school, she always seems...happier than Mom does."  
  
"That's at school," Kit pointed out. "You don't know what's she's like at home. Your mom never cries outside."  
  
"Hm." Molly considered this, then shook her head. "I just wish it was all better."  
  
"How?" Kit asked, somewhat cynically.  
  
Molly said, "What if..." then caught Kit's eyes. Frowning, she said, "Oh, never mind." She got up and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Kit shrugged and started counting his money.  
  
*****  
  
"Yes...yes, Mr Tendy." Rebecca's eyes got a bit wider. "Well, that's probably more than we deserve. Thank you very much. You won't regret it. Bye!" She hung up the phone, and let out a sigh of relief.  
  
Baloo put the hand truck back in the corner. "Good news?"  
  
"Great news." Rebecca leaned back in her chair. "That was the bank. They've given us an extention on the rent...again."  
  
Smiling, Baloo said, "Hey-hey! Happy days are here again!"  
  
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Hardly." She was interrupted by Molly and Kit bursting in the front door.  
  
"Did you hear? Did you hear the news?" they shouted excitedly.  
  
"Whoa, cool yer engines, kids." Baloo held up his hands. "What's goin' on?"  
  
"It's war!" said Molly. "One of the teachers heard it on the radio just as we were leaving school!"  
  
"War?" echoed Rebecca. Baloo walked over to filing cabinets and turned on the radio that was sitting on top. He fiddled with the dial until he heard talking instead of music.  
  
"...keeps your floors looking shiny and new. And now, back to the news. Reaction from Usland has been swift. Diplomatic relations with Sequentia have been severed, and the armed forces are being mobilized. Colonel Spigot from Thembryia, who is in Cape Suzette for negotiations, says Usland can count on his country's support." Everyone smiled slightly at the thought of Thembryia loaning bathtubs to Cape Suzette. "The seventeen Uslander personnel who were abducted today at Cape P'aunn are being considered prisoners of war, and as such, no negotiations are being considered for their release. Military spokesmen said today that Uslanders should not panic over..."  
  
Baloo turned the radio down. "Who're these seventeen prisoners?"  
  
Kit piped up. "Government and civilian workers who worked in Sequentia."  
  
"And they just let themselves be caught?" Rebecca asked.  
  
"They were on the last boat out, but I guess they couldn't get out in time."  
  
Baloo nodded. "Boat traffic in 'n' outta there's awful. The tides are fierce, and there's all these coral reefs to negotiate."  
  
"This is horrible," said Rebecca. "Not only are those poor men in prison, but war's going to cut into our business even further. War means less civilian trade, so unless we can get some sort of government contract...Baloo? Are you OK?"  
  
Baloo was staring into space, his jaw dropping. "Holy guacamole," he said, very slowly.  
  
"Poppa bear? Are you feeling OK?" Kit put his hand on Baloo's back.  
  
Slowly, Baloo looked down. "I just...I...y'ever have an idea that's seems so perfect, y'just *know* there's gotta be somethin' wrong with it?"  
  
Molly put her hand on his side. "What do you mean, Baloo?"  
  
Baloo squeeze his eyes shut. "There's something wrong. There's gotta be something wrong," he muttered. Suddenly, his eyes flew open. "Beckers, lemme borrow your car for a bit."  
  
"Wha-? Why?"  
  
"No time to explain. C'mon, li'l britches, we got us a war to stop."  
  
*****  
  
Dunder shook his head. "Oh, no, sir. I don't mind working for Colonel Spigot. In fact, he's quite nice to me. You just have to get used to him."  
  
The guard laughed. "Don't know why you'd bother trying to get used to him. He's awfully...what the blazes?" He reached for his gun as a car screeched to a halt outside the embassy. The door flew open, and Baloo more or less tumbled out of the driver's seat. Kit joined him on the sidewalk a bit more calmly.  
  
"Oh, hi, Baloo. Good to see you again."  
  
"Uh, same here, Dundie. Listen, remember a couple days back? I said you owed me six?"  
  
Dunder scratched his head and thought. "Oh, right. Sure thing."  
  
Baloo took his flight cap off and started fidgeting with it. "Um, I kinda need to cash 'em in."  
  
"I don't know, Baloo. I'm a little short of money right now."  
  
Holding up his hands, Baloo said, "No, no, Dunder. See, I just need a huge favor. You got to let me in to see the head security guy."  
  
"Lieutenant Kloniker?" Kit said incrediously.  
  
"Yeah, that's the fella. C'mon, Dunder, it's important. And you owe me."  
  
"Oh, that's no problem." Dunder turned to the other guard. "I'm going to take Baloo in to see the Lieutenant."  
  
The guard narrowed his eyes. "Does he have clearance?"  
  
"Oh, he's OK. C'mon." Dunder headed down the hall, with Baloo and Kit in tow, leaving the guard staring after them. "He's up on the fourth floor with Colonel Spigot."  
  
"Perfect." The group turned into a stairwell and began climbing.  
  
Dunder's curiousity finally got the better of him. "Why do you need to see the Lieutenant, Baloo?"  
  
"I got me an idea. And it's a doozy."  
  
This seemed to satisfy Dunder. That or he was getting winded climbing the stairs. In any event he asked no more questions. He led them out of the stairwell and down a large corridor. Two uniformed soldiers stood on either side of the door. Dunder paid them no mind, but instead reached for the door.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute," one of the guards said.  
  
Dunder paused only a second. "Oh, it's all right. They need to talk to Colonel Spigot." He opened the door and ushered Baloo and Kit, then quickly closed the door behind him.  
  
Colonel Spigot was seated at a large table with three other men. All turned to face the interlopers.  
  
"Baloo?!" Spigot sputtered.  
  
Again Baloo took off his cap and fiddled with it. "Hey-a, Spiggy. Uh, I need to talk to Lieutenant Kloniker for a minute."  
  
A rather large brown bear in full uniform stood up. "I'm Lieutenant Kloniker. And who might you be?"  
  
Suddenly, in the presence of a bear even larger than himself, he didn't feel quite so sure of himself anymore. "Baloo...Baloo, sir. I...I gotta ask you a question."  
  
Lieutenant Kloniker rolled his eyes and leaned against his chair. "This is hardly the time or place, Mr. Baloo. We're in a council of war here."  
  
"I...I know, sir. That's kinda what I gotta talk to you about." Lieutenant Kloniker didn't move for a second, and Baloo took that as a sign that he was weakening. "Sir, please. Gimme three minutes. I...I think I can get those seventeen folks out."  
  
Lieutenant Kloniker looked down and sighed. "All right. Three minutes." He pointed at Kit. "But get him out of here. This is no place for a child."  
  
Kit grew indignant. "Hey!"  
  
Baloo turned to face Kit. "Please, Kit, it's important."  
  
Dunder put his hand on Kit's shoulder. "Come on, Kit, we can wait outside." He half-led Kit out the door, closing it behind him. The two guards, somewhat startled at the new interruption, quickly resumed their positions. Kit stomped over to a bench lining the side of the corridor and sat down heavily. Dunder remained standing next to him.  
  
"Sounds like Baloo's got something big in mind," Dunder said abstractly.  
  
"Yeah, I guess," Kit grumbled. Suddenly he looked up at Dunder. "Doesn't it bug you to always have to wait outside?"  
  
Dunder opened his eyes wide. "Me? Oh, no, I don't mind."  
  
"Well, why not?"  
  
Dunder shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It's my job, I guess. Besides, I always find out what's going on sooner or later."  
  
Kit sighed. It upset him to hear Dunder making sense. He tried to calm down, but Lieutenant Kloniker calling him a kid bothered him. I'm not that young. Heck, in five years or so, he's gonna try to recruit me. Kit softly pounded his fist on the bench's armrest.  
  
Dunder walked back to the door and began chatting with the guard, oblivious to the fact that the guard wasn't answering. Kit glanced up and wondered what it would be like to be like that. Happier, and yet...  
  
Suddenly, the door flew open, and Lieutenant Kloniker, Baloo, and the other two military advisors spilled out. "C'mon, Kit," said Baloo. "We're takin' off."  
  
Lieutenant Kloniker was a few steps ahead down the hall, but he stopped and spun around. "Leave the child at home," he commanded.  
  
Baloo narrowed his eyes. "This 'child' is my navigator, and he's coming along. Let's go, Kit." Baloo headed down the hall, and Kit followed along, shrugging his shoulders at the Lieutenant.  
  
*****  
  
Don Karnage looked backwards at himself in the full-length mirror. As usual, he thought, I myself look glorious, but my jacket...not so glorious. He noticed a stray thread here and there. Alas, it is getting old. I must give thought to plundering another.  
  
A knock on his door interrupted his internal fashion consultation. "Yes, yes, come in," he said resignedly.  
  
Will opened the door and stepped in. "Visitors, Cap'n."  
  
Don narrowed his eyes. "Visitors? Since when is Pirate Island accepting the vacationing sightseers?" Will didn't answer, but instead stepped aside to let Baloo, Kit and Lieutenant Kloniker in. Don's eyes grew wide. "Curt?" he asked incrediously.  
  
"Don." Curt smiled slightly and held out his hand. Don stepped forward, grasped Curt's hand firmly, and put his other hand on the lieutenant's shoulder.  
  
"It has been many years, yes no? Too many."  
  
Curt looked around. "You've...done well for yourself, Don."  
  
"Oh, come now, not as well as you yourself have done. But surely you have not come simply to once again see my stunning visage. To what do I owe this pleasure?"  
  
"Business." Curt held up a rolled-up paper tube. "May I show you?"  
  
"By all means." Don waved them all to the table in the corner of the room. Curt unrolled the paper tube on the table, and Don put candlesticks on the corners to provide some light, as well as to keep it from rolling back up. Baloo, Kit and Will snuck a peek while Curt began addressing Don.  
  
"You know about our problem with Sequentia?"  
  
"Yes, yes. Your seventeen men are held captive. But why do you not go release them?"  
  
Curt put his finger on the map, right along side a bit of shoreline. "Here's where the men are being held in Sequentia...at least, as far as we can tell." Sweeping his hand over the ocean nearby, he went on, "This area is the Coral Sea - it's so overrun with coral reefs that it takes ships hours to navigate in and out of the area." He indicated a point far out to sea. "It isn't until around here that ships can navigate freely."  
  
Don shrugged. "Send in the planes."  
  
"We'd have to send them from at least this far back," said Curt, tapping the area. "Besides, there are three islands - here, here and here - where they have large cannon set up. Any small planes would get shot out of the sky before they got anywhere close."  
  
"Hm. Quite a little predic-a-ment you have."  
  
"Yes. But Baloo here pointed out there's one aircraft that can get in."  
  
Don stared at the map but didn't answer for a second. Slowly he looked up to face Curt. "The Iron Vulture, yes no?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Don sighed, then drummed his fingers on the table. "What precisely is it that you propose?"  
  
"Let the military use the Iron Vulture to rescue these men."  
  
Don laughed derisively. "Your military does not know how to fly the Vulture."  
  
"Teach us."  
  
"The Iron Vulture is not a bicycle! It would take many days. Weeks, as a matter of the fact."  
  
Curt sighed. "Well, that plan's out."  
  
"Wait a minuet. Why do you out the plan? My men and my glorious self could fly the Vulture."  
  
"What? You 'n' the pirates?"  
  
"Certainment. Why not?"  
  
Curt rolled his eyes. "Don, this isn't a game. This is war."  
  
"I have not grown stupid in your absence, Curt. I understand what is happening. But surely my men and I could...cut a deal perhaps?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"We help you - you help us. Is that not what a deal is?"  
  
"Well, yeah, but what do you need help with?"  
  
"Putting an end to the piracy."  
  
Curt narrowed his eyes. "You can't be serious!"  
  
"Oh, but I am, my old friend. And perhaps we could get some amnesty for those who help out in times of need?"  
  
Crossing his arms and smirking, Curt nodded. "Go on."  
  
"You wish to use the Iron Vulture to enter Sequentia, then deploy the smaller planes from the Vulture to rescue the poor victim-types, yes no?"  
  
Curt, somewhat impatiently, said, "Well, yeah. So?"  
  
"So?" Don drew circles with his claw on the map. "So what if my men ran the inter-a-ference?"  
  
"Interference? You mean...you mean go out in their planes and draw some fire?"  
  
"Naturalment." Don added, slyly, "And perhaps did a little firing of their own?"  
  
Curt looked interested for a second, then shook his head. "Don, forget it. Usland can't involve you guys in a fight that has nothing to do with you."  
  
"Would we not be useful?"  
  
"Well, sure, but that's not the point. I can't force them to help out."  
  
Don looked shocked. "Force? Who said they would be for-ced to do anything? They will volunteer."  
  
Curt smiled. "Well, sure, if they want to volunteer to help, but I don't remember this gang being the sort to put their tails on the line."  
  
Don shrugged and spread his hands. "Perhaps we should go see how many of my men are of the volunteering type, yes no? Will, please assemble the men."  
  
"You got it, cap'n." Will stepped out the door.  
  
Don rolled up the map and presented it back to Curt. "Gentlemen, if you will follow me?" He led them out the door and through a few passageways. They all knew where they were headed - to the docks, where Don customarily addressed (and belittled) his underlings. They climbed the steps up to the catwalk, then stood waiting while the pirates filtered into the area. After a few minutes, Will gave a half-salute to Don, telling him they were all set.  
  
Don cleared his throat, then walked to the railing with arms outspread. "Men!" The pirates instantly stopped muttering amongst themselves, and looked up. Don paused to look at each one of them in the eye. Then he grasped the handrail in front of him, took a deep breath, and began. "When I assumed control of this congratulamation years ago, most who worked these high seas had not heard of us. Those that did, laughed at the mere mention of our name. To them, there was no greater shame than losing their cargo to such misfits as we."  
  
There was mild murmuring from the pirates below. Not too many of them had been around for those threadbare years, but even the recent recruits didn't like hearing their organization put down, even by their captain. Don held up a hand, which quickly quieted the crowd.  
  
"When I took over, immediatement I set about changing that. We began shooting down the planes. Our wunderkid mechanic Rachet began fixing them up, and our munitions expert Will outfitted them with the weapons." Those around Rachet and Will clapped them on the shoulders and murmured their approval. "My glorious self, along with Clunk, began to train you on the art of flying, the art of the air attack, the art of plundering from the skies. We began accumulating the booty from many air raids, and along with the pilot's cargos...came fear." Don smiled slightly. "No longer could the ships and planes afford laughter in our direction! Too many had lost their precious cargo at our hands."  
  
More murmuring rose from the pirates, but this time of a happier sort. Don let it go on for a few seconds, then once more held up his hands for quiet.  
  
"Our plundering has taught the planes and ships to fear the sound of our propellors. However, if you could hear the talk of the pilots, it would appear that fear is one thing, but respect is a horse of another kettle of fish. The pilots and captains may fear us as pirates, but that is all. They feel you men may be good for taking their cargo, but you are worthless in every other respect. You are nothing but the scum of the ocean, the scourge of the seas!" Don slammed his fists down on the handrail, and the pirates began yelling and shaking their fists. He had to yell over them to be heard, which took some doing.  
  
"Many of you...many of you will recognize Clunk here, who has since gone on to great success with the Usland military." A few "Hi, Clunk!"s rose from below, but most of the pirates were still seething at Don's earlier comments. "Seventeen innocent civilians are being held in Sequentia, and Lt Kloniker has come to ask for our assistance in their rescue. His cohorts in the Usland military laughed when he announced to them who would aid in this rescue mission. Impossible! they said. Those pirates are nothing but cowards, hiding on their little base, and would certainly not have the courage to aid a former comrade in need." Curt started to say something, then thought better of it as he heard the angry roar from below.  
  
"So, I place the question before you now! Are these people correct? Are you the sniveling cowards they claim you are? Or have you the mettle, the courage, to do what must be done?" Again, Don slammed his fists against the railing. "Are you cowards, or are you men?!"  
  
Will was the first to throw his fist up and yell, but he was almost immediately joined by every other pirate present. Don turned to face Curt, smiling.  
  
"Your men await your orders, Curt."  
  
*****  
  
Baloo watched Kit run inside. He sighed, then smiled to himself. Well, I did all I could do, he thought. The rest is up to them. He grabbed the mail out of the mailbox and headed inside. Kit was excitedly explaining what had happened.  
  
"...the Iron Vulture, but Don Karnage said *he'd* lead them in!"  
  
"Don Karnage?" Rebecca looked up to Baloo for confirmation. "Really?"  
  
Baloo nodded. "Yep. I could hardly believe it, neither." He glanced down at the envelopes in his hand. "Got a letter for Wildcat. Where's he at?"  
  
"He's upstairs fixing that light switch in your room."  
  
"Wildcat!" Baloo bellowed. "You gotcherself a letter!"  
  
Wildcat leaned over the railing. "A letter? For me? I bet it's from Dutch!" He ran down the stairs and took the envelope from Baloo. He ripped it open with his claw, pulled out the letter, and unfolded it. His face scrunched up as he tried to read it.  
  
After a considerable pause, Kit said, "Well...?"  
  
"Uh, it's not from Dutch."  
  
"Who's it from, then?"  
  
Wildcat's eyes moved to the bottom of the page. "Sh...sherrr...sherry cuhan."  
  
Baloo glanced over his shoulder. "That's 'Shere Khan', Wildcat."  
  
"Really?" Wildcat looked closely at the letter again. "That's funny. He spelled it wrong."  
  
"Here, let me look." Kit took the letter from him, and scanned it quickly. As he read, he slowly formed a frown. "This doesn't make sense."  
  
"What's it say, Kit?" asked Baloo.  
  
Kit cleared his throat. "Dear Wildcat, thank you for your timely assistance with my injured vehicle this last Saturday. Fortunately, I was able to return to Cape Suzette in time for...', yeah, yeah, yeah. OK, here. 'As you requested, I have procured for you a socket wrench as a token of my appreciation. You will find it, where it belongs, at 1407 North Cape Front Drive. Trusting there will always be a place open for me and my men, Shere Khan.'"  
  
Wildcat scratched his head. "Um, so I gotta go get the socket wrench?"  
  
Baloo grunted. "Looks that way. Sounds awfully cheap, even for Khan."  
  
"Wait a minute," said Kit. "Why'd he say 'where it belongs'? If it belongs there, it's isn't really his, is it?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Baloo said, "Let's not play guessin' games. Let's head over to that place...where's it again, li'l britches?"  
  
Kit rechecked the letter. "1407 North Cape Front Drive. The other side of the cape."  
  
"Well, let's pile in Becker's car and head over. You okay with that?"  
  
Now it was Rebecca's turn to roll her eyes. "We may as well. It's obvious no work's going to get done here until we do." She reached into her handbag for her keys.  
  
*****  
  
Don Karnage stood swinging his goggles absently while Gibber checked the ammunition supply on each plane. At the other end of the hangar, he spied Rachet, foot still in a cast, arguing with Dumptruck. Intrigued, Don walked over to the two.  
  
"But, er, I have to fly *this* plane," Dumptruck insisted.  
  
"Not today, yer not," Rachet countered.  
  
"Stop, stop, stop," Don waved his arms. "What are you two babbling about?"  
  
"Er, um, Captain," began Dumptruck, "Rachet here sez I can't fly dis plane."  
  
Rachet sniffed. "Not if y'wanna come back, ya don't."  
  
Again Don waved his arms. "Enough of the child-like banter. Why can Dumptruck not fly this plane?"  
  
Rachet reached up and banged one of the side guns with the aluminium pole he was using as a cane. "Left gun's gone screwy. Keeps jammin' up. Me 'n' Gibber've been playin' with it th'last day or so, but it's still busted."  
  
Dumptruck put his hand lovingly on the propeller. "But, er, Sally here's my lucky plane!"  
  
"Well, with the 'mount of firin' you guys'll be doin' today, this gun'll lock up on ya right as rain. And who knows, maybe the jammed bullet'll spit out into yer engine and send you spinnin' earthward." Rachet poked Dumptruck in the chest. "Then we'll all remember ya as the one that went down in his 'lucky plane'!"  
  
Don had heard enough. "There is no time for the squabbling today! Dumptruck, take number nineteen."  
  
Dumptruck cast a mournful look at plane nineteen, the main back-up plane. "Er, I don't like number nineteen."  
  
"Oh, really?" Don sneered. "Then perhaps you can go down and explain to the prisoners down there that the reason we haven't rescued them yet is because YOU CAN'T FLY YOUR LUCKY PLANE!!!"  
  
The rest of the pirates, startled, looked over at the threesome. Dumptruck, shame-faced, muttered, "Um...er...sorry, Captain." and shuffled over to plane nineteen.  
  
"Thanks, cap'n," said Rachet.  
  
Don nodded, looking around. He saw the rest of the pilots were set to go. Smiling a private smile to himself, headed back to his plane, then tapped the flat of his sabre against his propeller to get everyone's attention. When the hubbub died down, he began.  
  
"Loyal subjects, we are all set to help the Uslanders recover their citizens. We have entered Sequentia's airspace, and now, we begin our diversion-a- fying. I have divided you into the two teams. Planes ten through eighteen will be in formation behind Maddog." Maddog half-saluted. "The rest will be behind my glorious self." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumptruck's hand slowly go up. Anticipating the question, Don turned to him and said, "Dumptruck, you will be behind me, yes no?" Maddog's hand went back down, and Don tried to pick up the momentum. "You must all remember why we are here. We will be causing the diversion, so that the Usland forces may rescue the prisoners. Therefore, you must *not* fire near the prison, and you must *not* fire near the beach. If you see any people running, do not fire near them, because they may be the self same persons we have come to rescue! If there is no place safe to shoot, you do not shoot at all! Simple, yes no? Now, if I see any of you firing at people, even if they are the enemy, I will personally shoot you out of the sky myself. Maddog has orders to do the same. Am I making myself as clear as the daylight?" Don scanned the pirates one by one, until he saw each one nod. "Very well. We have but one chance to do this, so we must do it right the first time, which will be the only time." He grasped his sword in both his paws, and growled between his clenched teeth. "DON'T...MESS... IT UP!" He sighed, then said, quietly, "Make me proud, men." He handed his sword to Gibber, struck a dramatic pose, and announced, "To your planes!"  
  
Once more, Will led the cheer, and the pirates jumped into their planes. The few pirates who didn't fly ran in front of the planes to start the propellers turning. Don fastened his seat belt, put on his goggles, then, almost involuntarily, glanced over at Will. Will was grinning over at him, giving  
  
him a thumbs-up sign. Don, heartened, returned the sign. He then waved to Jacques, who pulled the lever to open the Vulture's beak. Taking a deep breath, Don taxied his plane out into the sky, followed by the rest of the pirates.  
  
Don flew over the area, trying to get a lay of the land. He finally located the prison, then circled back, the other pirates still in tow. Looking back towards the Iron Vulture, he saw the Usland planes take off and head for the coast. He raised his arm and waved it in a circle, and Maddog led eight other planes off towards the north.  
  
Fearing anti-aircraft guns, Don began zig-zagging on his next approach. He waved his arm again, and the eight planes tailing him fanned out. Don passed the prison, and began scanning for an appropriate target. Several buildings looked like they might be barracks - no, not those. Offices, supply sheds... yes, perfect. Don fired several rounds into a supply shed, then pulled up. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the other pirates took his lead, each firing on a different spot. The corner of Don's mouth went up - they do take the lead very well!  
  
Don circled back, bearing towards the Iron Vulture. Still no sign of return fire. Perhaps we have taken them completely unawares, Don thought. All the better. Once he was back over water, he began circling back. He shot a quick glance to the north, and saw him Maddog leading the other squadron back. Don shook his head - he had to trust Maddog to do his job; he was going to be busy enough with his own group.  
  
Two passes, then three, then four. There was next to no anti-aircraft fire, for which Don was extremely thankful, but it was getting difficult to find anything to aim for. There were people running all over the beach, and in the fading light, he couldn't tell who was who. He did see a plane take off from the beach and head back to the Vulture, so apparently the prisoners' rescue had begun. Don aimed for areas around the storage sheds, guessing that there'd be no Uslanders in that area.  
  
He was returning from his sixth pass when he noticed smoke rising from the beach. Don's eyes weren't all that good, but by peering closely, he saw what he feared he'd seen - one of the Uslander planes had been struck. Don wasn't sure if it was one of his own men, or perhaps the Sequentians had managed to get a plane aloft, but at the moment, it didn't matter. He saw some people hovering near the wreckage, and he could figure out who that was - Uslanders needing a ride.  
  
Don reached for his radio. "Will, take over my squadron - I'm going after the Uslanders."  
  
Will didn't really understand, but he knew better than to ask. "Roger that. You heard the captain, team - fall in."  
  
*****  
  
"No, no, you got it all wrong, Monty." Louie inspected the glass, then hung it up on the rack. "See, you take the first sixteen, and then I come in...ah, hold on just a sec." Louie waved as he saw Baloo, Rebecca and Kit enter his place. A few seconds later, Wildcat came in, looking completely dazed. Kit walked back and more or less led him to the bar.  
  
Louie smiled. "The whole gang. Miss Cunnin'ham, a pleasure as always." He bowed low.  
  
Rebecca sighed. "Louie. A pest, as always."  
  
"Ha! I can feel the love tonight! Listen, Baloo, I wanna talk to you 'bout your tab..."  
  
Baloo held up his hands and smiled. "Say no more, Louie, say no more! Looks like I'll be able to pay ya off!"  
  
Louie cocked his head. "Uh, come again?"  
  
"Really! Hey, Wildcat, tell him the good news." Wildcat slumped down on his barstool, and continued staring into space. "Um, he's just so excited, see."  
  
Louie scratched his head. "Yeah, he sure *looks* excited." Louie reached under the bar, and pulled out a large dark bottle. He poured a shot into a glass and handed it to Wildcat. "Here go, cous'." Without looking down, Wildcat picked up the glass, drained it dry and put it back down.  
  
Laughing, Louie began getting drinks for the entire gang. "Whoa, this must be a doozy!"  
  
Kit nodded. "Remember when Wildcat fixed Shere Khan's plane last week?"  
  
Louie laughed again. "Cous, there ain't no *way* I could forget that day."  
  
"Well, that weren't the first time Wildcat steered ol' Khan out of a pickle," Baloo continued. "And today Wildcat got paid back...with interest!"  
  
"A nice fat check from Khan Industries, huh?"  
  
"Nope. Show 'im, Wildcat."  
  
Wildcat, still in a daze, pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and held it up. Louie began reading it out loud.  
  
"Deed and Title. The property at 1407 North Cape Street is hereby signed over to Wilfred J. Katchum, including all items contained herein...what th'heck is this?"  
  
Baloo laughed. "The deed to a repair shop!"  
  
"You yankin' my chain?" Louie looked suspiciously at the rest of them.  
  
"No, no, it's for real!" Kit jumped in. "Six bays for seaplanes, four for cars, a full set of tools..."  
  
Louie turned back to Wildcat. "And you're tellin' me ol' Khan just *gave* it to you?"  
  
Wildcat put the deed down, and at last, he attempted to speak. "Um...he said...I gotta keep a bay open for him 'n' his men."  
  
"Ha-ha! Wildcat, Mechanic to the Rich and Famous!"  
  
Wildcat buried his head in his paws. "But I can't run a repair shop."  
  
Kit patted his back. "Sure you can, Wildcat. You're the best mechanic in Cape Suzette. Everyone knows that."  
  
"But it's so much work..."  
  
Baloo shrugged. "Hire some folks."  
  
Louie shook his head. "Don't go takin' any o' *my* grease monkeys, cous. I'm already gonna be shorter than a jockey in a three-foot hole."  
  
"Whatsa matter, Louie? Folks runnin' out on ya?"  
  
"No...oh, wait, I didn't tell you *my* news. You remember that guy you brought in with Khan?"  
  
Baloo nodded. "Yeah - Wally Harvbanger or something."  
  
"Wallace Sturgess. Head of Khan Entertainment. Seems he took a shine to our little show here last week. He's signed us up to do a radio show here three times a week - 'Live at Louie's.'"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"No lyin'! When folks get a chance to hear us swingin' on their radios, this place's gonna be hoppin' like a rabbit convention!"  
  
Baloo laughed. "Ha ha! Louie on the radio. Who'da thunk it?" Suddenly he let his smile drop. "But wait a second, Louie. You said you wanted to talk to me about my tab."  
  
"Oh, yeah. I tore it up. Finder's fee, y'understand."  
  
"Tore it up?" Baloo's eyes got wide. "You mean..."  
  
"I mean, you're back to zero, my main man." Louie leaned across the bar and smacked hands with his old friend. "Just, uh, try to keep it under control, 'K, cous?"  
  
"Hail the conquering heroooo..." Don Karnage's baritone preceded him into the bar. He entered leaning on the shoulder of Will, taking the weight off his bandaged leg. The rest of his men began filing in behind him, chatting excitedly. Most of them hadn't been in a bar for some time, and a few hadn't been in one at all.  
  
Louie slammed his hand down on the counter. "Darnit, Karnage, I'm not tellin' you again. No pirates on my island!"  
  
Don put his hand to his chest in mock horror. "Pirates, did you say?" He turned around began scanning his men's faces. "I see no pirates here. Only brave souls who help out in times of need."  
  
Baloo laughed. "Sure, when they think they can get somethin' out of it."  
  
"How'd it go?" Kit asked excitedly.  
  
"Kit, my dear boy, you have to ask? Certainly you know that Don Karnage always comes through in the punch."  
  
Will smiled. "Got 'em all outta there."  
  
Maddog nodded vigorously. "Yeah. and we only lost two planes, too."  
  
Rebecca stared at Don Karnage's leg. "Any casualties?"  
  
Don Karnage attempted to pull himself up straighter. "There were a few... minor mishaps, but it is to be expected in war, yes no?"  
  
Louie somehow managed to look both shocked and confused. "You mean you pirates...?"  
  
"My men have liberated the Uslanders." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a large bill and waved it at Louie. "This will take care of my men tonight, I believe."  
  
Louie eyed the bill with a mixture of greed and distrust. "I don't take dirty money, Karnage."  
  
"Dirty money, indeed! Were I not incapacistrated, I would force some manners under that ugly straw hat of yours."  
  
Will, not wanting to blow this attempt at a truce, hastily explained. "It's from Klunk...I mean, Lt Kloniker. He said to go enjoy ourselves."  
  
Louie still didn't look convinced. "And you chose my joint to go enjoy yourselves in."  
  
Will grinned. "Every flyboy we ever took hostage talked about how great this place is. All the men wanted to come see it for themselves."  
  
Slowly, Louie returned Will's smile. "Flattery, cous, will get you everywhere...especially when accompanied by cold hard cash." He jumped up on the bar and took the bill from Don's hand. Then he grabbed the bell pull with his foot and rang it loudly to get everyone's attention.  
  
"Ladies and gents...and the rest of you, too...you may recognize these folks here by the bar. Don Karnage and his pirates." An angry rumble began rising from the patrons. "Now just cool your props a second. These pirates just returned from a mission to rescue those poor folks in Sequentia...a mission, I might add, that was 100% successful." The pirates raised their fists and shouted, and about a second later, were joined by the rest of Louie's patrons and staff. Louie waited until the cheering had died down, and then continued. "In celebration, these men are our guests tonight." Louie turned to Don and pointed a finger at him. "I'm leavin' you in charge of your men, Karnie. One false step and out they go."  
  
Don held up his paws. "Fair enough." He in turn spun around to face his men. "You heard the proprietor. You are to be on your bestest behaviors, or I shall take you outside, shoot you, skewer you, hang you by your pinkies, and then take away your flying privileges."  
  
The pirates murmured their tacit acceptance of these rather strange terms, and, following his lead, entered the bar completely. Most gathered in small groups, sat down at tables and simply stared. It had been a long time since they had had any social interaction - plus, Don Karnage's warning still rang in their ears.  
  
Will led Don straight to the bar, and helped him onto a stool next to Baloo. Louie, still not quite believing this was happening, said, "So...what'll it be?"  
  
"Rum. No, wait" Louie froze in mid-grab. Don shook his head. "I have grown weary of the rum. Surprise me."  
  
Louie laughed. "The specialty of the house! One surprise me comin' up."  
  
"Hey-a, Louie, is someone in the kitchen now?" Baloo said out of nowhere.  
  
"Yeah, Rud and Kip, but I was gonna pull one out to help serve. What's up?"  
  
Baloo didn't answer, but instead indicated Louie to lean closer, which he did. Baloo whispered in his ear for a few seconds. Louie straightened up, stole a quick glance at Don, then shrugged. "Don't see why not. Lemme go tell Kip." Louie scampered off to the kitchen.  
  
Rebecca nervously tried to get a conversation going. "Sooo...now what, Mr Karnage?"  
  
Don smiled. "Now, Mrs. Business Lady?"  
  
"Um...Cunningham. Rebecca Cunningham." Louie came back, gave Baloo a thumbs-up, and began fixing drinks.  
  
"Now, Mrs. Cunningham? I enjoy a night out with my men."  
  
"And after?"  
  
Don accepted a pineapple daquiri from Louie. "Ah, thank you. And after? It will all depend on Lt. Kloniker. He has taken the seventeen men back home, and he will plead on our behest for some sort of amnesty program."  
  
"Amnesty?" asked Louie. "For you lot?"  
  
Will nodded. "Yeah, why not? We turn over all the loot we've collected, scuttle the operation, and become regular Joes again."  
  
Louie placed a drink in front of Will. "No more air pirates? Heh, the flyboys here'll have to find something else to gripe about!"  
  
Don grinned. "Of course. that means finding the employment for my men, which may not be the simple task. Curt has suggested I use my brilliant plane designing skills to work, but the rest of them?"  
  
Rachet limped up. "Mind if I join ya, Captain? I'd rather not babysit the others our first night out."  
  
"Not at all, not at all. You all know Rachet, I believe?" Everyone half- waved, and Rachet saluted, then turned to Wildcat.  
  
"You did a bangup job on our planes the other day."  
  
Wildcat looked horrified. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bang them up."  
  
"No, I mean you fixed them really good."  
  
Wildcat's look went from horror to embarassment. "Oh, well, y'know..."  
  
"You must be one heck of a mechanic."  
  
Kit smiled. "He is - he just got his own shop, too."  
  
"Hey, congrats, Wildcat!"  
  
Now Wildcat looked sick. "I don't know if I can do it."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Run a repair shop. I can't do it all by myself."  
  
Rachet's face lit up. "Does that mean you're hiring?"  
  
Don Karnage smiled. "If you need a reference, Wildcat, I shall give him my highest accolades."  
  
Wildcat smiled back. "Boy, if that's as good as it sounds, then yeah, you can work at my shop - that is, if you wanna." Again, he looked troubled. "I don't know if that's enough, though."  
  
Rebecca asked, "What's not enough?"  
  
"I can't just..." Suddenly he turned to the others. "Could you guys come live with me there?"  
  
"What?" The question was almost universal.  
  
"Look, there's plenty of rooms, 'n' I can keep the Sea Duck in one o' the bays, 'n'..."  
  
"But, Wildcat, why would you want us to come live with you?"  
  
"Um..." Wildcat looked embarassed. "Cause you're my friends, and I ain't ever had friends like you, and I don't wanna move away from you."  
  
Rebecca put her hand on his. "Wildcat, of course we'll come live with you. Your place is big enough to set up Higher for Hire inside, and still have plenty of room for your shop."  
  
Baloo grinned weakly, stood up, then walked out the door. Everyone glanced at him briefly, but Rebecca's gaze remained at the door. After a second, she stood up and went out after him.  
  
She found him on the edge of the dock, staring out at the moon over the water.  
  
"Baloo. are you all right?"  
  
Slightly surprised, Baloo glanced back at Rebecca. "Oh. Yeah. Just needed some air."  
  
"You never need air, Baloo. You sure you're OK?"  
  
Baloo sighed. "It's just...I don't do change all that good, Beckers. You know me. I like everything the same."  
  
Rebecca put her hand on his arm. "But it never is."  
  
"Oh, I know things're always changin', but this is a lot to go down in a week."  
  
"Wildcat's new place?"  
  
"The new place. the pirates, war, everything. It all...it all got me thinkin'..." Suddenly Baloo shook his head. "No, that's not it really. Karnie 'n' me were talkin' a few days back. And he asked me what my dreams were."  
  
Rebecca smiled, a bit nervously. "I know the answer to that one. You want your plane back. We should be able to do that for you fairly quickly now."  
  
Baloo sighed. "That's what I told Karnie. Then he asked me 'Then what?'."  
  
Rebecca paused, then asked, "Well, then what?"  
  
Baloo turned to face her. "That's just it. I don't know."  
  
"You don't know?"  
  
Baloo kicked at the dirt. "Yeah, pretty stupid, huh? What am I gonna do once I get my plane back? Start Baloo's Air Service again? Either I'd get no customers, or I'd steal a bunch of yours and put you under. I mean..." Baloo stared out at the sea. "It was so much easier a few years ago. I had my plane, my little pad, and I'd go hang at Louie's every night. But it's so different now. *I'm* different now. I can't just up 'n' leave Kit, and Wildcat...and Higher for Hire..." He turned, somewhat embarassed, towards Rebecca. "Or you 'n' Molly."  
  
Rebecca stared at him, stunned. This wasn't the Baloo she thought she knew. "Baloo, you...you don't *owe* us anything."  
  
Baloo shook his head. "This ain't about owin' ya nuttin'." Again, Baloo looked away. "I...I guess I just care 'bout all you too much. I never thought I'd end up feelin' this way, but..."  
  
Rebecca, fearing she may be misinterpreting something. asked, "Are you...are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
  
Turning to face her, he smiled crookedly. "I ain't very good at talkin', am I? You're right - I should always leave that to you." He tried to laugh. "Don't worry, Beckers. It'll still be the same ol' Baloo. It'll be just like it was before." He turned back to the water.  
  
Rebecca regarded Baloo's back, flabbergasted. "Baloo," she finally got out. "You...you know I...well, I don't know what to say. You know that I've always... preferred a more... well, more sophisticated type than you...a high class fellow. And besides, you're my employee..."  
  
Baloo sighed once more. heavily. "Yeah, yeah, Beckers, I know all that."  
  
"I always wanted a romantic man, someone who'd sweep me off my feet..."  
  
Baloo turned around, angry. "Yeah, look, I get it, Rebecca. Stop rubbing it in. Why you gotta tell me all this for?"  
  
Smiling sadly, Rebecca shrugged. "Oh, no reason, I guess. Just...trying to convince myself, that's all."  
  
Baloo stared. "Now what're *you* talkin' about?"  
  
It was Rebecca's turn to look out at the sea to avoid the gaze of the other. "Remember last week when I had a date with Chester?" Baloo paused, then nodded, and Rebecca sighed. "It...didn't go well. He was a phony, real stuck on himself..."  
  
"I coulda told ya that," Baloo growled.  
  
Pausing, Rebecca said, "Well, why didn't you, then?"  
  
Baloo shrugged, resigned. "You woulda said I was jealous. 'cause he was all rich and highclass. Then you woulda gone out with 'im about five times tryin' to prove me wrong."  
  
Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, then thought it through. "You...you really think I'd do that?"  
  
Baloo smirked. "Remember Phillipe?"  
  
Rebecca made a face. "I'd rather not." She sighed. "Anyhow, I came home early, and Molly was still up. She asked me how it went, and I told her. She said, 'Mommy, why do you always date such creeps?'."  
  
In spite of it all, Baoo guffawed. "Haw haw! Uh, sorry, Beckers."  
  
Half-smiling herself, Rebecca continued. "Well, it was true, I guess, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear. I told her she always hates every man I spend any time with." She looked down again. "She sort of pouted, then said, 'Baloo's okay.'"  
  
"Heh. At least I'm a hit with the kid."  
  
"I told her, yeah, you're okay. Then she asked me..." Rebecca steeled herself and turned to face Baloo. "She asked me why I don't date you."  
  
"An' you told her all that stuff you just told me."  
  
"No. I told her...that I didn't think we liked each other that way." Rebecca waited until Baloo's eyes met hers before going on. "But I guess that's not true now...is it?"  
  
Baloo slowly reached out and took a hold of one of her hands. "Nah, I guess it ain't." They both smiled stupidly at each other far a moment. Finally Rebecca broke the silence.  
  
"Will we...Baloo, we're so *different*. Is there any way this is going to work?"  
  
"Heck, I dunno, Beckers - I ain't exactly got the best track record."  
  
Rebecca laughed. "True, but it's better than mine."  
  
Baloo gently pulled Rebecca closer into his arms. "It'll be fun finding out, anyway."  
  
Rebecca nestled in his arms for a second, then pulled free. "We better go back in. They probably think we're screaming at each other."  
  
"Heh. Can't have that." They walked back to the bar, and Baloo held the door open for Rebecca.  
  
Don witnessed their re-entry, and wildly waved them over. He indicated his half-finished plate. "My dear Baloo, tastier steak and eggs I have never experienced! How may I ever repay you?"  
  
Baloo held up his hand. "Don't worry 'bout it. Karnie - my treat."  
  
Don looked as if he were going to speak again, but instead he once again attacked his food. Baloo turned his attention to Wildcat and Rachet, who were busy recounting the problems dealing with this fuel pump and that spark plug. Baloo grinned to himself. Wildcat never gets to talk about this stuff with anybody, he thought. His thoughts were interrupted by Louie, who had taken the stage.  
  
"Ladies, gentlemen, former pirates - welcome to Louie's, and thanks for catching the seven o'clock show. We'll be starting off with a slow number - well, it's actually a fast number, but wa ain't learned it too good yet, so we just play it real slow." There was only a smattering of laughter - the pirates weren't used to hearing jokes that didn't start with "Knock knock". "It's called 'Low Lights', and if you don't like it, that's fine. Just leave and don't come back."  
  
Louie nodded at his drummer Buddy who counted the beat down. Once the tune got into full swing, the few couples in the bar got up and began dancing slowly. Baloo watched them impassively for a bit, then glanced over at Rebecca, her eyes glued to the dancers. She wants someone to sweep her off her feet, thought Baloo. Well, heck, I can at least try, can't I?  
  
Baloo stood up, bowed to the flabbergasted Rebecca, then offered his arm. Rebecca simply stared at him for a moment like she didn't recognize him. Just about the memont Baloo started wondering if he had done the wrong thing, she gave him a shy smile and took his arm. The made their way out to the dance floor, and she once more fell into his arms.  
  
"I ain't so good at the slow dances," warned Baloo quietly.  
  
"That's okay," Rebecca said, just as quietly. "We can fake it."  
  
They swayed together for the duration of the song, and as the song entered the second verse, Baloo reached down and placed his lips against Rebecca's. In the back of his mind, he heard someone whoop, but he was too engrossed in the kiss to really notice. Slowly, he pulled away from Rebecca and smiled, but his smile became a frown when he saw her confused expression. She was looking at something off to the side, so he turned his eyes to follow hers. To their side were Don Karnage and Will, dancing cheek to cheek. Don looked over at Baloo, grinned, then danced Will off in the other direction."  
  
Rebecca looked back at Baloo. "Baloo, what..."  
  
Baloo shook his head. "Hush, Beckers. Just keep dancin'." 


End file.
